


Mindoir

by Seagoatink



Series: Survival Isn't Pretty [1]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Angst, Colonist (Mass Effect), Comfort, Emotional bonding, Mindoir, Pre-Mass Effect 1, Shepard vomits on people to solve pressing issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-22 23:50:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8305888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seagoatink/pseuds/Seagoatink
Summary: At sixteen, everything was an adventure. But with all the foreign ships landing and soon sirens blaring in fast response, this spelled peril. Her mother was there. The thought made her stomach knot up to the point where it felt like there was a black hole in her belly, eating her from the inside out. Smoke rose and guns were being fired.





	1. Run, Girl, Run

Aliens were a lot different from humans. Cheska new that. She logged her thoughts and interests in her datapad, in writing and in spoken words. Either way, the words never came out right. They were awkward and misshapen and bulky. Despite her want to be more poetic like her grandmother, or diplomatic like her grandfather, the youngest Shepard found the right words enjoyed running from her.

She practiced anyway.

Her datapad held clunky words as though they weren’t strangely placed or in the way. Cheska had turned in homework long before the weekend. It wasn’t that she was a particularly good student, she just had time during class. If she hadn’t finished it while at school, it would never be done. So she studied words and flowers and meanings. Poetry was the best place to find what she was looking for.

The girl sat calmly on her bed beside her potted lilac bush. One of the teachers at school gave it to her from Earth as a thank you for helping clean up so often. She had extra time to do whatever she pleased. Unlike most other kids, her parents worked at the space docking port and didn’t care when she came home.

Cheska looked out the window of the prefab. There was a new ship in the sky, and it wasn’t of the Alliance’s design. Then there were many of them. An overwhelming amount of foreign designed ships for a colony like Mindoir. Not even Alliance ships, or regular human freighters had ever arrived in such numbers. Not all at once anyway.

At sixteen, everything was an adventure. But with all the foreign ships landing and soon sirens blaring in fast response, this spelled peril. Her mother was there. The thought made her stomach knot up to the point where it felt like there was a black hole in her belly, eating her from the inside out. 

Smoke rose and guns were being fired.

The colony didn’t have Anti-Aircraft guns. Raids on colonies were supposed to be a myth. Alien races were Alliance allies.

The docking bay was on fire.

There wasn’t enough time to pull her long hair into a ponytail. There wasn’t even enough time to grab a hair tie. But her datapad was already glued into her hands, like it wasn’t even there. Cheska had to settle for running out of the shelter of her home in her pajamas. She was under prepared, but nothing could have prepared her for a goddamn sky raid.

When there was a catastrophe, the sky was supposed to be orange and red like fires and doom, not bright and shining like a perfect day on Earth.

The nearest hiding spot was ten minutes by an air cab. But an air cab or shuttle were nowhere to be found. It was a shelter designated for weather hazards, not raids. It was designed so people could get to it with an hour advanced notice.

Cheska threw that thought out the metaphorical window. Anyone who thought grouping up during an invasion was a moron. The huddled masses could be taken out much faster that way.

Part of her wished for her eight-year-old self’s imagination.

But she was sixteen now, outfitted with implants and a turret. Granted, she was ill-practiced, lacking in experience, and incompetent. If she were to get cornered, that would be the perfect time to try out her tech. Until then, it was best not to draw the attention of the assailants. 

The aliens started showing up in the sky, using shuttles. They weren’t Alliance, Hell, they weren’t even the colony’s shuttles. But they were in the sky. The teen ducked into a shrub as fast as she could manage to watch as other colonists, ones she even knew personally, were shot with electric netting. A few other people who were too far away for the netting were gunned down.

Cheska lost her voice. Even if she had it, she doubted she would make an entry in her datapad. Behind her, one of the aliens entered the prefab that was her home. The aliens hadn’t even been on Mindoir ten minutes and they were covering more ground than she could imagine.

The alien came out and shook his head, had she been in range to hear what he said, she was sure her translator wouldn’t have been able to tell her what he said. He had a gun. All she had was her worthless datapad and tech that would probably backfire on her. Her resources were useless compared to what these aliens had on hand.

Still, it was better than nothing, Cheska decided silently.

The shuttles were off into the sky again, likely hitting other prefabs. The shelter crossed itself from her slim list of options. People would be herding there like cattle. It was likely the aliens had already discovered the shelter. If Cheska wanted to live to see Alliance spacecraft again, she would have to be far more witty and clever than her writing.

Fortunately, teens were very creative.


	2. Alliance in the Sky With Diamonds

It felt like the raid had started more than a week ago. In all reality, the day was finally coming to an end. Had the damn aliens owned any brains, and Cheska figured they would have since their heads were so big, they would leave soon.

She had left five beacons to signal the Alliance, each set to go off fifteen minutes or more after she left them. Most of them were hidden in holes she burrowed under a prefab, but there were one or two that had been tossed in a bush.

Alien shuttle cars littered the sky. As often as one landed, one would take off. They were scavenging, Cheska realized. Looking for credits, scientific finds, or guns, she couldn’t be sure. Given they picked most of the colonists in their first sweep, the girl figured they were slavers.

“Fucking Alliance, swearing we were safe from slavers,” growled Cheska through gritted teeth.

Her stomach was growling too. She had avoided eating anything, thinking maybe the aliens paid attention to what was in the housing units and what was not. If something noticeable went missing, or heaven forbid she leave a trace she was alive and on the run, the girl was sure they would be fast on her trail.

In the sky she saw smoke. Dark smoke. It wasn’t billowing yet, but she was certain that these aliens had a lot to burn if they were going to burn anything at all.

It was downright stupid to do so, and Cheska knew it, but she followed the smoke. She was careful to keep cover. But she wasn’t the only one checking the source of the flames. A ways off in the distance she could see a crowd of maybe five to ten people huddling close to each other. They were also ducking and covering and repeating the process. But with so many people, it was hard to remain undetected.

There was no way to signal them. They were being obvious, and it was going to get them all killed so she stopped. Instead of investigating further, she rolled behind a bush and crouched. Her stomach growled again. But the group of survivors trudged on. 

Cheska spotted the shuttle before they did. 

And the shuttle had spotted the group before Cheska had. 

The aliens either threw a grenade or fired a rocket launcher. A sure-fire way to prevent colonists from becoming survivors. Had she had anything to drink that day, Cheska probably would have pissed herself as the shuttle flew directly overhead.

The pilot and its passengers didn’t detect her. The shuttle was out of sight in less than a minute.

Tears welled in her eyes and fell over her cheeks and fell off her chin. They weren’t the first group she had seen gunned down, but they were the last. And Cheska recognized a few of them from school. She wiped away her tears with her sleeve before dashing in the opposite direction of the smoke.

Alliance aircraft appeared in the sky.

That didn’t mean it was safe.

So she holed herself up in a prefab after hiding her turret near a bush. She had only deemed the thing was safe because of the three marks on it. The marks, she assumed, stood for thoroughly searched, one mark for each time. Who knew if the aliens were greedy enough to try and come back a fourth time for anything worth credits.

There were shots fired outside the prefab. She assumed by her turret. The gun was quickly silenced, probably shot down. To be on the safe side, Cheska threw out a defense drone and huddled under a desk. A security lock could only do so much, but she put it on the door anyway. If it really was Alliance, then someone would surely have good enough hacking skill to get in. If it was the aliens, then at least she made them struggle.

Right as rain, the door opened. 

“Hello,” said a voice. A _human_ voice.

Cheska struggled away from her hiding spot to peer over the desk she had been hiding under. That was a human standing in the doorway. “Who are you?” Asked the teen wearily.

“A friend, Cheska,” said the man who was wearing Alliance military gear. He had an assault rifle, but it was strapped to his back. There was also a pistol at his side. He was well stocked with ammo. His boots were clean -”I found a few of your distress beacons. They helped me find you relatively fast.”

“Friends say their names, sir,” Cheska said, her fingers turning white from their tight grip on the desk top. Her defense drone was still active and provided enough of a shield to give her some hope if someone were to fire at her.

The man seemed slightly taken aback. But he chuckled. “Alright, my name is Anderson. Lieutenant David Anderson. With the Alliance.” His skin was fairly dark and he had sun spots on his face. With his armor and helmet in the way it was hard to see what he looked like. If he were a colonist, he’d be a bit too muscular. Considering he was military, Cheska gave him some leeway. David took off his helmet as he further entered the prefab. His hair was short, almost buzzed. His eyes were dark.

Cheska swallowed hard, but stood. She kept her stance wide and narrowed her eyes. “Just stay there!” As much as she wanted to trust him, she didn’t know if she really could. “I… I want to know if anyone else is alive. I want to know what took you so long.”

“There was a lot of fighting, planetwide. The batarians were holed in deep with good, defensible positioning. It took too long to gun them down… Of the colonists, you’re the only one left standing, and we made Hell to try and keep you alive,” replied Anderson.

Her thoughts were dizzying. Her defense drone couldn’t stay active idly without her thinking about it, and it deactivated. “Why would you try and keep me alive?” She asked. “My mom is dead. Her sisters, my aunts. My cousins. My friends. Why me. My engineering professor would have been more worth it to save!”

“You’re beacons, and visual feeds gave us one-up on the enemy,” Anderson answered. “You probably didn’t see much fighting because you were behind their line of defense. Not only were you keeping them distracted, but you were feeding us valuable information and weak-points.”

“Sir,” another soldier said from behind him as she entered the prefab.

Cheska’s defense drone popped up again. A cryo-blast hit the wall behind the two military people, who were lucky the kid had bad aim. She ducked under the desk again.

“This is the kid, huh?” The woman asked. “Jumpy.”

“This is Specialist Rio, Anna Rio. She helped us locate you,” Anderson informed the teen who had returned to her hiding spot. “I imagine you’re hungry.”

Cheska could feel her stomach eating at itself. She stood behind the desk. Then shook her head. “No.” Her voice was quiet, but firm. She pushed her long, curly hair out of her face. It was matted, and stiff in places from sweat, slobber, and snot.

Her eyes were bloodshot and her nails were bitten down. She was nervously taking in every detail she could. It was not uncharacteristic for her to cringe at the radio chatter when she did. The lieutenant walked closer to Cheska, taking advantage of her hyper vigilance. Then he held her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. “It’s alright, I need you to stay calm.”

Cheska wondered what she had missed. Had he actually said something. The radio chatter said there might be another wave. Her mind was swimming. And Anderson had a firm grip on her.

Everything was a blur.

Rio left the prefab to continue the call outside.

In her absence, Cheska threw up on Anderson, forcing him to let go of her. She hopped out a window and did her best to disappear into the night. But unlike the raiders, the Alliance had heat vision. It was a step ahead of her shoddy night-vision.

Anderson found her hiding in a bush. He didn’t have his jacket on anymore, Cheska figured it was in the wash. “It’s not safe to stay here, child, you need to come with me.”

“Come with me if you want to live,” Cheska mumbled sleepily when he picked her up.

“I know that vid. It’s old,” he replied.

“Where’s my datapad?” The teen mumbled against his chest.

Anderson was running now, or jogging to the best of his ability with the girl in his arms. Fortunately for him, Cheska was only a teenager, and on the light side. “Specialist Rio has it. Hey, Cheska, we may come under fire,” the man warned.

Her eyes were closed and her face pressed into his chest, but she could feel him drop low. “You can read it,” Cheska said quietly. When he took cover behind whatever it was, she sat down beside him. There was shooting, she could hear and feel the bullets over head.

It took a majority of her concentration, but she did her best to keep her defense drone active. Cheska closed her eyes. She could see the fighting from its optics. It stayed low, only needing to shield allies, but it was hard to not give into curiosity.

Anderson threw out a grenade.

The girl could see a few bodies fly, but the impact wasn’t as damaging as she had hoped. Cheska threw out a cryo blast, then ducked behind cover. Without a weapon, she felt worthless. Without a helmet or any other gear, she knew her life would end abruptly if the aliens aimed for her.

She heard shattering in the middle of the fire fight, and felt like she’d done something right. 

Anderson ducked again. “Try not to fry your head with those implants,” he warned. “But with a few more blasts like that, we may have a better chance of making it out of here.” He finished reloading and returned to shooting.

When he rattled out clock numbers, she threw out cryo blasts in that direction. Most of the time, they would auto-correct themselves, thanks to their heat sensors. Other times, the blasts would scare the shit out of the batarians enough to herd them into firing range. 

In all the excitement, Cheska overstepped her boundaries. Her brain felt like it was on fire, and the overstimulation caused her to pass out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still sick af so please forgive issues during this story.


	3. Leave It Behind

She woke up in a prefab, near the docking bay for spacecraft. Cheska recognized it from the many times she stayed the night, waiting for her father to return back from an off-world business meeting. The pillow her head was resting on was soaked with a mixture of her slobber and tears. The blanket was military standard. Anyone older than twelve could recognize military provided bedding from vids.

There was a man with dark skin in military attire, dressed for combat not formalities, sitting at the only desk in the room. He had her datapad in his hand. Her last entry was playing. 

_“They saw my friends before I did. I’m pretty sure that Anaïs was in that group. She was Naomi’s little sister. From what I heard, they were amazing in all their classes… But, that doesn’t really matter anymore. Those bastards… They either hit everyone there with a grenade or a rocket launcher. Doesn’t really matter which. They’re all dead. They all got blown up. I don’t know if anyone else has family off of the colony. But no one can bury them now.”_

The man selected the first entry.

_”A girl just moved here with her family. She’s really cute, but she lives halfway across the planet-”_

“Stop,” Cheska said gruffly as she sat up.

The military man stood and turned to face her.

She recognized him. “Uhm... “ She stammered. _What was his title?_ Her eyes closed, as if it would help her find the answer. “Uhm eh…. L-lieutenant?” Cheska asked hesitantly. “Anderson.”

“You can call me David,” said David. “I’m surprised you remember me at all, Specialist Rio said you might have some brain damage to your short term memory.”

“My implant overheated,” Cheska responded. She wasn’t quite sure if she was asking for clarification or stating the fact. Her hand raised to touch the back of her head, as if that would help her solve the mystery. “I kind of wish I did have some memory loss though…” The teen admitted.

After taking a few steps to cross the room, which was small, he sat down at the foot of her bed. Cheska had bunched up the blanket around her, so he didn’t have to worry about sitting on any of it. “It’s important that you remember what happened, Cheska. Do you understand that?” He asked careful not to upset her.

She was fidgeting with her hands and avoiding his eyes. “Yeah, I know. I’ve done a few reports -you probably heard about them from my journal -but yeah. I understand. It’s just… It’s not something you want to remember.” 

Cheska curled up further, holding her knees to her chest. 

“In your journal, you said your brother and father were off-world,” the marine said, “but I haven’t been able to find them. We’re still looking, though. So keep your chin up.”

For a moment, Cheska’s mouth hung agape, like she was going to say something. Then she frowned and bit her lip. As she looked away, it became glaringly obvious how scuffed up she was. Whether it was from the late night firefight or from brush cover, Anderson wasn’t sure. Part of her lower lip was swollen, and her upper lip busted, but was scabbed over.

“A counselor recommended you stay with me until we contact your family. Are you alright with that?” Anderson questioned.

Cheska yawned. “It’s better than being left here,” she replied with disinterest. “It smells like death.”

“That it does,” the man agreed solemnly.


	4. Moving on Isn't Easy

For a month, Cheska stayed on board the spacecraft Anderson served on. At first, she never left the medical bay unless she had to accompany him somewhere. During the first week on board, the teen had developed a sinus infection and a nasty cold. The doctor brought her cabbage soup, something he had learned how to cook from his grandfather. She was too polite to tell him she hated the taste, and instead asked how to make it.

A few marines visited periodically to make sure she was alright or to keep her company while Anderson was off-ship or busy. Once, they even invited Cheska to play poker with them. She was shit at it, and said so. Specialist Rio was there and scolded her for her language. The teen just laughed her off with the other marines, but did her best to keep from swearing for the rest of the night.

As the end of her first month on board neared, she entered his quarters for their bi-weekly card game. Anderson hadn’t readied up, like he usually had. Instead, he was at his desk, buried in reports under a lamp. She knew that meant bad news. “We still haven’t been able to locate either your father or your brother. And your uncle, on your father’s side, can’t take you in either,” the man revealed as the teen sat down on the other side of his desk.

Cheska was biting her nails. Anderson did not exactly mind, but eventually someone had to clean the place up. “I’ve set up an interview with the Rucker Engineering Institute. I know I can’t stay here forever, sir-”

“You don’t need to call me sir, Cheska. And you didn’t tell me you were interested in pursuing any institutes, let alone that one. It’s held in high regards, from what the tech experts have told me,” Anderson interjected. “But you are right. The captain has been asking if I have any plans for you.”

She glanced off to the side, avoiding his eyes. “A few groups have offered to help me go. Three human news networks have e-mailed me for interviews. An asari even asked to study me for a research paper on human trauma,” Cheska admitted with a sigh. “Credits aren’t a problem when it comes to my schooling and food, but I don’t have anywhere to stay in the meantime, David.”

“I’ll contact a few friends and see what they can do,” Anderson promised.

“Uh… My mom’s brothers… Have they replied back? I know they’re busy with business and travel, but…” Cheska was hesitant. She had never been particularly close with her family. Her brother had, but that was because they pitied him.

Joseph had potential. He was named after a Saint. He was a brilliant engineer, or at least that is what everyone had convinced themselves. Cheska wasn’t quite as sure, considering how many shells of computers he had piled up. He’d busted every last one too, there was nothing to salvage from his heap of junk.

The lieutenant shook his head.

That was not the response she wanted, but it was what she had. Maybe a third of her family died on Mindoir. For some reason, Cheska expected that fact to hurt worse than the reality that none of her remaining relatives wanted anything to do with her.

“It’s alright to be upset and cry, Cheska,” Anderson said, doing his best at supporting her as an adult.

No tears welled up in her eyes, and the man knew it would be dramatic to say they dried up on Mindoir. But her green eyes seemed empty when she looked up at him. “I do my fair share of crying during therapy, Da-David,” the teen replied sternly. “I’m not saying it doesn’t hurt, because it does. But this isn’t exactly uncharacteristic either.”

Anderson sighed. “I see.” He could not justify asking for clarification. If she wanted to tell him something, he believed she would open her mouth and tell him.

Cheska on the other hand, believed that if he really wanted to know, he would ask. Otherwise, she was just boring him with details about her life that he was not even interested in hearing. “I… I’ll keep you updated, once I get comfortable at Rucker,” she said.

“I would hope so.” 

She sat silently, outside of her steady breathing. 

The man would be lying to himself if he said it didn’t throw him off. “Did you decide on your implants or was that something your parents decided on?” He finally asked to try and diffuse the heavy stillness in the air.

Cheska blinked away her surprised expression. “I uh -my parents. My brother’s got the same tech, and I think he decided on his. But I was uhm,” she began repeating the phrase over and over again, before finally silencing herself. Anderson watched as she inhaled deeply and straightened her posture. Her brows furrowed together and her eyes were squeezed shut.

There was something in that action that Anderson couldn’t quite pinpoint. Something about the way she sat and held herself told him this was familiar to her. “Cheska?” He asked cautiously, doing his best to gauge the situation. To see how she was doing.

She opened her eyes, which were glossed over with tears that soon caught in her lashes. Her posture fell from straight-backed to slouching. Cheska began to hyperventilate.

Even though he tried not to hop right over his desk to console her, he basically did just that. The marine rushed to her side, but deliberately avoiding physical contact. He knelt down in front of her as she struggled to regain control of her breathing. “Sit up,” he instructed softly. 

There was panic in her eyes as she rocked forward and backward, gasping for breath.

“Good,” he murmured while looking up with her. “Now, can you breath with me?” He asked and began demonstrating normal breathing. Dr. Kozlov in the med bay had done the same thing for her earlier in the month. Fortunately, it was easy enough to get the hang of. 

Cheska ended up crying into his shoulder. He ended up hugging her clumsily. What was it that parents usually whispered to their kids when they were upset? What had his parents done to assure him he was safe? Even if he wasn’t really her parent or official guardian, he was going to do his best to step up to the metaphorical plate. “Shhh, shh, it’s alright. You’re safe here,” he found himself saying out loud.

He thought it sounded silly.

But she calmed down.

When he signed up for space, he expected to get space. Not a kid. Anderson realized, he didn’t mind. It would just take some getting used to, and maybe a few nights just like this.

**Author's Note:**

> I have an awful cold from stress, so please forgive me for continuity errors and other issues. I have the rest typed out but it still needs editing.


End file.
